


Dustland Fairytale

by orphan_account



Series: An A to Z of Sherlock Songfics [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, M/M, Songfic, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:29:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the Dustland Fairytale, by the Killers</p><p>"The Dustland Fairytale beginning<br/>With just another white trash county kiss in '61."</p><p>Sherlock has loved John for as long as he can remember, been friends with him for even longer. Just one problem with his love. John's straight. When at one school dance things just come out, things seem to turn out for the better. If only for a short while.</p><p>"Your mind is poisoned.<br/>Castles in the sky sit stranded, vandalized.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dustland Fairytale

Music filtered through the hall, various scents mixing in the air packed with teenage bodies. Many were dancing, others talking to the side or drinking. Everyone was having a good time, enjoying the dance in the middle of a busy last year of school. It was nice to relax and have fun with friends for once. It was hard not to enjoy it.

 

Sherlock did not. He sat off to the side by himself, a grump look on his pale face. The tall, lanky teen had been forced to go by his parents who thought it would be good for him. Sherlock begged to differ. He was not enjoying it one bit and he wasn't exactly spending time with any people. And the only tolerable person of the whole lot was off dancing with some _girl._

 

Sherlock would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of that girl. Mary Morstan or something like that. Stealing his best friend. John. His John. He had been quite upset when John had said that no, he would not go to the dance with Sherlock because they were just friends and anyway he had a date. Of course he did. Because John was brilliant. Nothing spectacular at first glance, but Sherlock though John was the best person in the world. With his wool jumpers, jam and tea. He was a conductor of light for Sherlock. And he was, of course, straight. Not that Sherlock was attracted to him. No, Sherlock didn't do feelings.

 

Or, at least, that was what he told himself that night as he watched John dance with someone who wasn't him.

 

"Hey, Sherlock, why aren't you dancing? Find a girl or something," John sat down, panting lightly. Obviously the dancing was exhausting him. Mary had gone over to talk to her friends, but she kept on glancing at John who was quite blatantly still staring at her. Not even looking at Sherlock.

 

"Really, John?" Sherlock fixed his seventeen year old friend with a hard stare. "There is no point in asking that question."

 

"I guess not," John shrugged, looking at Sherlock with a grin. "But you can't just sit there looking glum. Come with me and maybe you can dance with one of Mary's friends."

 

Sherlock made a face. "I do not want to dance with any of her friends."

 

"Fine. What about Molly? She likes you."

 

"No thank you, anyway she disappeared off with Graham a while ago. They are undoubtedly now making out somewhere."

 

"Greg," John corrected with a frown, watching his best friend carefully. "Who do you want to dance with?"

 

Sherlock let a cold look cross his eyes, not meeting John's eyes as he replied stiffly. "Nobody who would want to dance with me."

 

"Try me."

 

"I'd rather not."

 

John folded his arms, fixing Sherlock with a glare. It seemed that John wouldn't be moving until Sherlock admitted who he wanted to dance with. Not that that mattered to Sherlock. It meant John was here, with him, rather than with _Mary._ "Tell me, Sherlock. I'm sure I can set you up."

 

Sherlock looked John right in the eye, before glancing over John. He knew everything about him and his life. His heterosexuality was really quite obvious. But Sherlock had never been one to run away from a challenge. If it could be seen as that.

 

"You."

 

"What?" John spluttered, coughing lightly. "Say that again?"

 

"You. I want to dance with you, John Watson." A delicate smirk slipped across Sherlock's lips. John was a deep red now, looking rather shocked. The seventeen year old obviously had no idea what to say.

"Okay."

 

"What?" It was Sherlock's turn to be shocked.

 

"You heard me, Sherlock Holmes," John replied.

 

Sherlock nodded, standing slowly and gracefully. John just rolled his eyes as he stood, glancing over to where Mary was standing with her friends. She didn't seem to be watching. John was glad. Because... He was about to dance with his best friend. What was he doing? Why had he agreed to this. It would just be a friendly dance. That was all.

 

When Sherlock took the position of the male John allowed him. It was kind of logical, John was smaller after all. Their movements were stiff at first, rigid and awkward. John felt the heat in his cheeks, a deep blush. It was weird. Sherlock's hand on his hip, the closeness of their body. Some part of him liked it.

 

Soon Sherlock's grace began to come through, his obvious dancing skill. John was breathless at the end. And he wasn't sure why. One glance afterwards told him that Mary had disappeared. Bugger. Actually, most people where beginning to leave. How long had he danced with Sherlock?

 

"Come on, John!" Sherlock interrupted John's thoughts by grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the hall, down an corridor and into the fresh, if sharp, night air.

 

"What are you doing, Sherlock?" John managed to ask as he was dragged in a half run by Sherlock down the streets.

 

"Going home."

 

"All well and good but why does that involve taking me."

 

Sherlock halted, John nearly running into him. "You're coming back to my house, remember?"

 

"What?"

 

"To compensate for going to the dance with Mary you promised to come round to mine afterwards."

 

"Oh..." John groaned, a frown on his lips. He had, hadn't he? Truthfully he had hoped that Sherlock would forget. The younger boy often deleted 'useless' pieces of information.

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and let go of John's hand, a light blush seeming to stain his cheeks. John sighed softly.

 

"Let's go then."

 

Sherlock nodded, leading the way back to his house. It was bigger than John's, but not exactly a mansion. It was a nice size actually. Sherlock pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, silently entering and indicating for John to do the same.

 

"Sherlock!" Sherlock groaned as his mother appeared from the kitchen, pulling him into a tight hug and smothering him with kisses. Sherlock squirmed out of his mother's grasp, a scowl on his lips. John watched in an amused manner.

 

"Mother," he grumbled, squirting around her.

 

"How was it? I hope at least you had fun, John, dear." Sherlock's mother looked at John with a smile. John just nodded, blushing lightly. "You're mother dropped of your stuff earlier."

 

"Eh, great," John ran a hand through his hair. He found this kind of weird. He hadn't stayed at Sherlock's house for what could be called a sleepover for... Three years? Yes, the last time had been when he was fourteen and Sherlock was thirteen. They were still best friends they just didn't do that kind of thing together. And after the, well, dancing John was beginning to feel a bit flustered. 

 

"Come, John," Sherlock swept past his mother, heading up the stairs. John smiled awkwardly at Sherlock's mum before following his friend into his room. There was already a mattress set up on the floor with a sleeping bag on it. There was a small bag next to it, which obviously had John's stuff in it. Sherlock was already sitting cross legged on his bed, eyes close and face screwed up in thought.

 

"So..." John trailed off, not really knowing what to say as he sat down on the end of Sherlock's bed. Sherlock's eyes snapped open, fixed on John.

 

"You're embarrassed. That you danced with me."

 

"What, no!" John ran a hand through his hair. "Just... why did you want to?"

 

Sherlock open his mouth to reply, then just exhaled air. They sat, staring at each other for a few moments before the answer came. "Because... I like you John."

 

"You're joking."

 

Sherlock looked offended.

 

"But... You're Sherlock. I've known you all my life, you don't like people in that way."

 

"Seems you're the exception." Suddenly Sherlock's face was tantalisingly close to John's. Hadn't there been a bit more of a gap between them before?  

 

"Seems so." John gulped, gaze held in Sherlock's. Then their lips met. It was a clumsy kiss, a bit of bumping going on, but sweet nonetheless. When they broke away Sherlock's pupils were dilated and both of them were breathing a bit too hard. Sherlock gave John a teasing smile, leaning away a bit.

 

"Not bad, John."

 

John rolled his eyes, blushing. "Not bad... Humph." He paused. "You know, I think we should give it a try."

 

"Give what a try?"

 

"You and me."

 

"... What about Mary?"

 

"Fuck Mary," John closed the gap between them, pressing his lip's against Sherlock's. The slightly younger boy's eyes widened then he relaxed into the kiss, arms moving around John's neck. John's hand got tangled in Sherlock's hair as they fell onto the bed.

 

Yes, John was definitely willing to give this a try.

 

Sherlock spent the morning at breakfast boasting to his parents about how him and John were now going out, how John was his boyfriend, how wonderful they were together. John just ate silently, bright red. Both of Sherlock's parents seemed quite happy for him. Mycroft, who was down on a visit, was a bit more sceptical. Caring is not an advantage and such. Sherlock's mum said it was good that Sherlock had found someone as brilliant as John and that maybe they should help Mycroft search for someone. That send him scurrying fast enough.

 

It took John another two months to tell his parents. It was the first day of the Easter holidays. His parents were in a relatively good mood. He had already told Harry, of course, on one of the few days she was sober. It wasn't like his sister cared that much. She was also gay and their parents hadn't taken it to well. That's what worried John.

 

"Mum, dad," John sidled into the living room where his parents were watching television. "I need to talk to you."

 

"What is it?" Both turned to look at him.

 

"I'm in a relationship with someone."

 

"Brilliant, son! Is it that Mary girl?" It was his father that spoke.

 

"No..."

 

"Who is it then?"

 

John took a deep breath, steeling himself against their response. "Sherlock Holmes."

 

It took them a moment to register it. "What?!" His dad stood up, looking red in the face. "It's bad enough that Harriet likes girls! I thought you were normal, John. And of all the people... That Holmes kid." He practically spat it. Ah, yes. John remembered now. His dad didn't like Sherlock. John glanced to his mother for help. She just looked disappointed.

 

"I'm perfectly normal," John eventually snapped back. "And there is nothing wrong with Sherlock."

 

"Pah," his dad snorted. "I'm not standing for this. You will break up with him and find a nice girl."

 

"I will not!"

 

"John Hamish Watson, you listen to me. I will not allow you to bring disgrace to this family."

 

"Well... Fuck you!" John couldn't take it, he turned tail and fled from the house door slamming behind him. He didn't even think, heading for the first house he could think of. Sherlock's. He could feel the tears beginning to run down his face but he ignored them. He hadn't been expecting a brilliant response but... He hadn't expected his dad to ask him to break up with Sherlock. He had hoped over time they would get used to the idea of him not being entirely straight.

 

It was Sherlock's mum that opened the door. One look on John's face and she called her son down. That's how John ended up lying with his head rested on Sherlock chest, silence filling the air. He'd began to see straight again, the anger receding. Sherlock just held him calmly, not once asking what had happened. He didn't need to. He was a genius after all. John ended up staying with the Holmes for three days. It took his parents three whole days to find him.

 

"You are coming home with us right now, John." His mother stood with her hands on her hips, his dad standing beside her fuming. John stood at the doorway of the house, Sherlock hovering protectively beside him. Both of Sherlock's parents were out, as were his brother. It was almost as if John's parents had planned it.

 

"I don't want to," John retorted, feeling his bottom lip shake.

 

"You have no choice, John. You are coming home with us."

 

"But..."

 

"No buts." His mother moved forward, taking him by the hand and pulling him away from Sherlock. "You are coming home." She was dragged him down the lane. John let her, turning around to wave to Sherlock. Sherlock gave a weak wave. John's dad pointed a finger at him, practically snarling at him.

 

"This is all your fault. You turned my son gay. I don't want to see you again."

 

Sherlock merely glared at him, slamming the door in his face. This wasn't right. John's parents were being unreasonable. They had waited for the moment when only John and Sherlock were in the house to strike, knowing the two of them couldn't do anything about it.

 

Sherlock dragged himself up to his bedroom, collapsing onto his bed. This wasn't fair. The sound of a text made him sit up straight, grabbing his mobile.

 

_I'm sorry. Phone being confiscated. May be able to see you in school. Relationship can't continue. Joining army at end of school -JW x_

Sherlock stared at the text, rereading it numerous times. John was being forced to join the army. When their last year of school finished... That was only a few months away. Only a few months left with his precious John, and only when they were in school.

 

Sherlock spent the rest of the day in his room, refusing to come out. The rest of the holidays were painful. He had no contact with John. Going back to school was almost worse. It reminded them of what could have been but never would be. They spent every moment together, stealing kisses when no one was around. But it wasn't the same. Both were counting down that days until John left. And then what were the chances of seeing each other again? Sherlock would move on, John would have his years in the army.

 

The day approached and Sherlock locked himself in his room, curling in a ball of depression. He hadn't eaten for a week, had slept little and had tried out smoking a few times. It had helped calm down his brain, if only a little. But it was still running haywire. He couldn't deal with it. He wanted his John. Craved him. But he would never see him again.

 

"Sherlock! There's someone at the door for you!"

 

Sherlock scowled, not moving. It was six minutes past ten at night. His parents had stopped trying to coax him out of his bedroom hours ago. "I don't want to see anyone!"

 

"I think you'll want to see this person."

 

"There's only one person I want to see!"

 

"Exactly."

 

Sherlock frowned, slowly rising and shrugging of his bedcovers. He didn't even bother putting on anymore clothes, he didn't care if whoever it was saw him in his underwear and one of John's old t-shirts. Which was way too small for him but it smelt of... John. He shuffled down the stairs, approaching the door with a deep scowl.

 

One which soon left his face as his shuffling turned into a run. "Jawn!"

 

"Sherlock," John grinned, a light oof leaving his lips as Sherlock practically tackled him.

 

"But... You were..."

 

"Turns out your brother really is the government." John's deep blue eyes shone. Sherlock smiled softly, moving in to kiss John. John kissed him back, arms around Sherlock's neck. A warm kiss, love evident in it. It had taken them sixteen years of being friends to discover their true feelings for each other. But now, after being together for only a few months, they knew that there could never be anyone else. It was Sherlock and John. John and Sherlock.

 

This was their happy ending.


End file.
